I blinked, wondering what teen heartthrob magazine Dr. Häagen-Dazs had swiped Dylan from. He was as tall as Fang and Iggy, meaning over six feet. His thick, darkblond hair was shoved carelessly back from a tanned forehead. Expressive turquoise eyes looked at us with guarded curiosity. He was wearing worn jeans and scuffed, dusty boots. A beat-up suede jacket mostly covered his clean white T-shirt. He was ready for a photo shoot — like, for the top twenty-five hottest guys under the age of twenty.

Of course, Fang would also qualify.

“Hey,” I said raspily and nodded, but I couldn’t think of anything else to say. And for some reason, that actually bothered me.

“I was particularly hoping you could meet Dylan,” said the doctor. “He’s been putting up with my company, and I’m sure he would benefit from meeting young people like himself.”

I rolled my eyes mentally, thinking that of course we were in no way like Dylan.

“Show them, Dylan,” said the doctor.

Dylan looked self-conscious but slowly took off his jacket to reveal broad shoulders and muscled arms. He was heavier than Fang, bulkier — maybe he was older? Had more regular access to food?

I was thinking, Wha —? when Dylan sort of shrugged his shoulders and extended his wings. All fifteen feet of them.

Chapter 11

11

I AM NOTHING if not resilient, but usually I can handle only about one humongous life-shaking situation per hour. Now here it was, the second earth-shattering thing in five minutes. That, on top of the millet balls, made for a dangerously unsettled stomach.

“Where’d you come from, Dylan?” Fang’s steady and calm voice gave nothing away. He sat down and picked up a small bag of water to drink.

Dylan gave kind of a wry little smile. “A test tube,” he said. “A lab.”

Dr. Hunker-Gunther smiled and clapped his hands. “Oh, you have so much to talk about! But it is late and we are all tired.” He gave an old-fashioned bow. “We will be looking forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

We were silent for several moments after they left. My eyes followed their outlines until tents got in the way.

“Well!” said Patrick finally. “I certainly never expected that! Did you know there were more of you?”

“Nope,” I said.

I glanced around at the dazed flock, wanting to get Angel alone so I could grill her for more details of her pronouncement about Fang. It would be best not to upset the others by bringing it up again publicly.

It’s pretty inconvenient sometimes when Angel is able to pick up my thoughts. She practically glued herself to Gazzy, and twenty minutes later, everyone was already settling down for the night in our tent. Angel was (at least pretending to be) asleep next to her brother, looking deceptively sweet and innocent. Iggy, a famously restless sleeper, was in a corner by himself.